


Loud

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, Akiyama Nobutomo Belongs to @judasetcetera, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 01:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17234762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: Nobutomo stumbles upon a scene that wasn't meant for his eyes - or was it?





	Loud

**Author's Note:**

> Akiyama Nobutomo is a historically based OC created by my friend @judasetcetera.

Nobutomo pinched the bridge of his nose and tried in vain to fight the headache that was quickly coming on. They’d gotten absolutely nowhere today, him and Lord Shingen and Mitsuhide, with all of them butting heads with one another and collectively making no progress in regards to the negotiations. Mitsuhide, of course, had that infuriating smirk on his face the whole time – the one that Nobutomo had first seen on the battlefield and the one that still lurked within his dreams until the very end.

It made Nobutomo wonder if this endless charade was exactly what he’d wanted, after all – damn that man! How was it that even when he was defeated and battered into the very ground itself, it still felt as if he had won?

Nobutomo quietly removed his shoes and then stepped up and through the doors, prepared to slink off to his own room and fall into another fitful sleep when he was interrupted by a loud, abrupt crash from his right, followed by numerous shouts – multiple voices, shouting over one another.

_“You-!”_

“Ah, _Lord – “_

“No more of your _insolence.”_ That was Lord Shingen’s low, foreboding growl, there was no mistaking it – and the other voice, much to Nobutomo’s horror, was becoming equally as familiar. Akechi Mitsuhide – who had apparently decided to carry on his little spat with Lord Shingen even hours later. Nobutomo didn’t know what he should have expected. That man was the very embodiment of chaos itself, never hesitating to escalate a situation as long as it panned out to his advantage.

There was another loud thud, followed by another and another, in rapid rhythm, and what sounded like Shingen’s voice, wordless grunts. Had they broke out into unarmed combat right there in the room?! Had Mitsuhide somehow managed to hide a weapon somewhere on his body even though Nobutomo knew _exactly_ what he was able to conceal in his clothing?

Eventually his paranoia (and his concern for his Lord, whether said Lord was deserving of it or not) got the better of him, and Nobutomo steeled himself for whatever bloody scene he might find and started towards the room, turning the corner and – 

Oh.

_Oh._

The sliding door had been left open – not by much, of course, about a foot’s width, but it was more than enough for Nobutomo to get a clear, unhindered view of exactly what was going on within that room. There was Mitsuhide, all right – except he was not standing over Shingen’s body, triumphant and soaked with blood, as Nobutomo had instinctively feared. Instead he was on his knees, completely unclothed, his hands held behind his back as he was shoved face-forwards into the floor by one very distinct heavy hand right below his neck.

_Lord Shingen –_

“Bastard – “

 _“Yes!”_ Mitsuhide cried, squirming beneath Shingen’s powerful grip, and with the way that his Lord was bent over and curled around Mitsuhide’s lanky frame, it was hard to see much besides writhing limbs, frantically tensing and jerking about. However, it was more than obvious what was happening, and the knowledge sank like a stone to the very pit of Nobutomo’s stomach. He wanted to die and to scream and to strangle the both of them, all at once.

_Whatever for?!_

Mitsuhide didn’t seem like he was in _pain,_ which was what Nobutomo would have expected, what with how mercilessly Shingen was _pounding_ into him. His body shook with the force of each impact, and yet, Mitsuhide was grinning maniacally throughout it all, laughing as if he was drunk, drooling ungracefully onto the ground below him.

 _“Ohhhh,_ yes, more, more please - !”

Shingen’s only reply was an animalistic grunt, beyond human comprehension, and suddenly Mitsuhide was forced several feet forwards, skidding on his knees until his skin was red and raw and yet all he could do was beg for _more._ The way they had managed to twist themselves now, Nobutomo could _easily_ see his Lord’s thick cock sinking into Mitsuhide’s tight entrance (and oh, he _knew_ how tight), red welts and bruises marring Akechi’s pale skin in the way that he _loved._

For a brief moment, Nobutomo had contemplated doing the right thing, turning quickly, and marching away, because it was not his place to decide what his Lord did in his spare time, not to mention that he did not know how he would react if he stayed here for much longer. But then Mitsuhide turned and looked over his shoulder, _directly_ at Nobutomo – and just like that, he was frozen. Rooted in place. His legs might as well have not belonged to him anymore, he couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

It was all he could do to hold still and try to keep breathing as Mitsuhide looked deliberately, intensely into his eyes, smirking all the while, his needy, high-pitched moans growing louder and louder until they finally reached a peak, Mitsuhide and Shingen both. Much to his horror, Nobutomo felt himself shivering right along with them, and it didn’t help – it didn’t help, even seeing Shingen through Mitsuhide to the ground as if he was worth _nothing,_ his Lord’s seed sliding slowly down those pale thighs, all while those very same _eyes_ stared burning holes into his soul. 

Laughing at him, watching the whole time, only spurred onwards by his little audience – oh, he knew. 

Feeling unusually chastised, Nobutomo crept past the doorway as silently as he could and continued without hesitation to his own rooms, reluctant arousal still thrumming in his veins. Perhaps he could pretend that he’d not seen anything, but that was a lie – he knew he’d see those eyes and that smirk again soon. _Very_ soon.


End file.
